


should've worshipped her sooner

by ladyfenharel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:10:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyfenharel/pseuds/ladyfenharel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lavellan is not just the Herald to her people. Solas admires her strength, and then proceeds to worship her properly. </p><p>(the first one is very flowery and the second is very nsfw.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

> _if the heavens ever did speak_
> 
> _she’s the last true mouthpiece_

 

 She sat upon the flaming throne, and she outshone it. Bright skin and wild red hair, golden eyes that threatened to light up the whole universe. She was the sun- though she could burn, she chose to spread light and life to her subjects. The people looked upon her with adoration, with respect, and most of all,  _with reverence._

 She sat above them all, back straight and chin held high- so obviously regal, it pained him. She would smile so sweetly at the most insignificant townsfolk, and every decision she made weighed heavy in her heart. Solas would come to the Great Hall every so often just to watch her, and those that she surrounded herself with. Even her advisors, those who had helped form the Inquisition, could be caught staring up at her like she were Andraste herself upon the Sunburst Throne. Lavellan inspired a fierce loyalty, a spark of allegiance that even Solas himself felt pulled into. But these people- no matter their race, followers of Andraste or otherwise- admired her as more than just the Inquisitor. She was the Herald, the Chosen; she was a mage raised up to saintliness. She brushed it off, denied the claims, but never did that spark fade from the public’s eyes.

 _No real god need prove himself. Anyone who tries is mad or lying._ He would know. He had walked the same path as The Creators, as the Forgotten Ones, and in their absence he had watched god-pretenders come and go. Corypheus was the antithesis to his Inquisitor; greedy and dangerous, high on a power he had not yet culminated. Lavellan was soft where he was hard, was beautifully mortal where he was tainted. She bore no desire for the power which she held, but knew that it was a burden that must be wielded with the utmost of care. Solas felt ashamed when he faced the never-ending kindness of a Dalish so many centuries younger than he- for all they got wrong, she was  _so right._  She was none of what he was at her age; so reckless and brash, he had seen life as nothing more than a game. Looking at Lavellan now, he saw a fire burning far too brightly for a mortal; she was becoming a legend, a thing of tales that he knew would be told for centuries. She would be immortalized in songs and frescoes and the hearts of her people… but that was not enough. Fen’Harel was ever greedy, and every Wolf King needed a Queen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw

 

> _my church offers no absolutes,_
> 
> _she tells me, ‘worship in the bedroom.’_

 

 Solas strolled casually through the Great Hall, slowing his pace as he came to the flaming throne. Lavellan met his gaze, questioning, but quickly returned to settling an argument between some farmers. She laughed lightly with one of the men, but he could tell she was unnerved.

 "I will make my way to your holdings within the fortnight, and see for myself the discrepancy in your farm lines." She offered them a bright smile. "And Serah Bladewell, I will bring along my best healers for your ailing daughter. You are both free to stay the night if you do not wish to travel at such a late hour."

 The men tipped their hats to the Inquisitor. Chatter resumed among the people in the Hall, and the Lady Montilyet scribbled on her ever present parchment. Solas stepped up on the dais, and the Antivan furrowed her brows at him. “Solas… we are just about closing up Court for the evening. There are two more cases to be heard, however.”

 Solas nodded his head. “I am sorry to interrupt, Lady Montilyet. There is an urgent matter that needs attending to, which requires my and the Inquisitor’s knowledge to solve. There is a disturbance in the Veil in the Hall, and we must seek to remedy it immediately.” Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled across the dais and spoke in a lowered tone. “It would be crucial for you to evacuate the nobles back to their quarters. I would not have anymore losses, after Haven.”

 Stricken, the ambassador nodded. She sheathed her quill in its holding and hurried towards the crowd. “Court is ending early tonight! Some urgent work needs to be done in the Hall- yes Lady Lisbeth, I know you have been waiting all day to see the Herald. She will be sitting here as usual tomorrow to hear your complaints about the water.”

 

* * *

 

 She watched The Keep empty, slowly, until an eerie stillness overtook the Hall. Solas was watching them all calmly, arms clasped behind his back. When her subjects were gone, Lavellan jumped from her throne. “The Veil is thin? Here? I thought-“

 He spun on his heels and the heat in his gaze made her stop short. Solas covered the distance between them in a single stride, his hands sliding up to cup her face- and then his lips were claiming her. She nearly lost her balance, knees weak and heart fluttering so quickly. His kiss was demanding and insistent and when he licked across her bottom lip she let him in obligingly. She rose onto her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, their bodies flush against each other. He pulled back for just a moment to gaze at her. “You are magnificent.”

 He kissed her jaw down to the pulsing of her neck. She sucked in a ragged breath as his lips found her pressure point. The hand pressed against the small of her back crept lower, teasingly tracing the sensitive spot between her ass and her thighs. She wished so badly there was no fabric between his touch and her skin. He lathered kisses down her collar and she leaned her head back, sighing. “And what brought this admiration on?”

 He growled, murmuring something about  _his golden sun_ in Elvish. Lavellan could not really parse it as his nimble fingers were undoing her top and his eyes were burning into hers. She had never seen him so intense and it was quite the treat after a long day of court. He undid her brassiere and threw it across the hall with her shirt. “You are so kind. And patient. And forgiving-” he punctuated each compliment with a kiss- “You are unlike any I have ever met. You deserve the worship they give you, ma vhenan.”

 Dirty talk, she could keep up with. But this made her cheeks to the tip of her nose flush red. He undid the ties of her pants, the ghost of a smile never leaving his lips as he helped her step out of them. “Solas, I-“

 "Be quiet." He continued his kisses down her neck, brushing lightly across every spot with the tips of his fingers before he kissed it. His right hand grazed across her nipple and her eyes fluttered shut. She moved to undo the buttons of his shirt and he swatted her away. "No. Don’t move."

 She had a sharp reply on her tongue but then _his_  was on her nipple, tracing the hard nubs like he wanted to memorize their shape. She let out a moan instead. He took a step and Lavellan stumbled backwards along with him, until the back of her knees bumped against her throne. He pressed her down on the seat, continuing to lavish attention on her breasts. He was so practiced, knew the way she would writhe when he teased the tip with a flick of his tongue, rolling the other beneath his fingers. She threw her head back against the flaming throne as a sharp throbbing pooled lower in her stomach. A lascivious moan escaped from low in her throat. “Yes,  _please._ ”

 Solas gently bit and she yelped, looking down at her lover. “I said  _be quiet_.” He glared at her, eyes burning like veilfire, already soothing the bite with gentle laps of his tongue. He kissed down her torso, his hands gripping her hips like she were his lifeline. Lavellan bit her lip to keep quiet, air coming in heavy breaths through her nose. Her hips were grinding gently, searching for some purchase for her relief. He slid his hands down her thighs, pushing up from the back of her knees to hitch her legs up on the throne. “Keep your hands on your knees. Don’t move.”

 She did as she was told. Having herself so exposed sent a chill down her spine; she could smell her arousal, and by Solas’ feral smirk, he could as well. He kissed a trail down her stomach to the beginning of her red curls. His nimble fingers traced lines from her ass to her inner thighs, teasing touches that made her want to scream. When his lips dragged across the mound just above her opening, the world blacked for a moment. One of his hands rubbed her arse and the other was teasing her entrance. Sparks of magic were dancing on her skin and she wanted so badly for him to be inside of her already,  _Creators_. She glared at him with half-lidded eyes and he rewarded her silence with a kiss against her aching nub. He continued, flicking his tongue around it in a tantalizing dance. His fingers slipped inside her, pushing up against that spot and- gods, did he know what he was doing- she whimpered, fingers white with the force she was gripping her own knees with. “Fen’Harel take you,  _gods_ , Solas-“

 He withdrew immediately and she yelped and he  _laughed._ His teeth so sharp and his eyes so hot with lust, she had never desired someone as strongly as she wanted him in this moment. She tried to pull him towards her, aching for more, but he would not budge. “You have not listened, vhenan. That is unwise.” He trailed a single digit down the edges of her folds, sparks of electricity shooting through the sensitive area, the echoes of it reaching every end of her body. She sucked in a ragged breath as a whiteness edged around her vision, and he raised an eyebrow. “You are not just a Herald to these people. You are so much more in their eyes. They will tell tales of you for centuries, paint frescoes of your battles and your successes.”

 He did not withdraw the electricity, but pressed his kisses lower until he came to her opening. He grazed her nub with his teeth and she gasped and then his tongue was all over her and inside her and his fingers pumped inside against that spot- she wanted to scream but she held it in for fear of him stopping again, which only made the pleasure spread faster. It pooled in her lower regions, shooting up inside her stomach and chest and clouding her vision until she was moaning wantonly and grinding against up his face. She bit down on her lip and cried out his name as she finished. He rubbed her clit with sparks on the tips of his fingers and the second orgasm was prolonged, accompanied by endless  _Solas, gods, Solas._

 He smirked up at her, her wetness still coating his mouth, and stood. “You are not just the Herald to your people, Lavellan. You are their goddess.”

 She stood shakily, shoving him down onto the throne. Sliding onto his lap and pulling his hardness from his undone laces, she moaned into his open mouth. “And you my god.”

 He growled against her lips and thrust up into her.


End file.
